The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing when you spotted him. Fred Weasley — flushed, hair even messier than usual, and stumbling through the crowd with a dopey grin plastered across his face.

He weaved his way toward you like a ship in a storm, nearly tripping over the rug before catching himself on the arm of the couch.

“’M fine,” he announced to absolutely no one, before promptly collapsing beside you. Or rather… half on top of you

“Fred—” you tried to protest, but his arm was already around your shoulders, tugging you close like you were his life raft.

“You smell nice,” he informed you, very seriously, as if this was breaking news. “Like… biscuits. Or heaven. Or… biscuit heaven.”

You bit back a laugh. “You’re drunk.”

He gasped — loudly — pressing a hand to his chest in mock betrayal. “Me? Drunk? Never. I am a professional.”

“You can barely sit upright.”

“I’m lounging,” he corrected, tipping sideways until his head landed on your shoulder. His hair tickled your cheek. “Hey… would you still love me if I was… uh… a worm?”

You blinked. “What?”

He lifted his head just enough to give you the most serious look he could manage. “A worm,” he confirmed, nodding heavily, as if this was a very important matter. “Like… slimy. No arms. No legs. Just… wriggle.” He demonstrated with a floppy wave of his hand.

You bit back a laugh. “Well… maybe I’d keep you in a little jar and carry you around.”

Fred gasped like you’d just pledged eternal devotion. “You’d carry me?!”

“Of course.”

“Oh, love,” he sighed dramatically, pressing his forehead to yours, “you’re the one. Absolutely the one. ‘Cause George said no — said he’d toss me in the garden for the birds—ow!” He winced as George, passing by, smacked the back of his head.

“Stop asking stupid questions,” George said, not even slowing his pace.

Fred lifted his head, pointing at his twin with mock outrage. “It’s not stupid. What if I do turn into a worm one day? You’ll be sorry when she’s the only one who’ll visit me in my worm hospital bed.”

George just shook his head and kept walking, muttering something about needing a new brother.

Fred flopped back onto you dramatically. “See? He doesn’t care. But you… you’d come see me.”

“Apparently so,” you said, grinning.

Fred hummed happily, snuggling closer. “Best girlfriend ever. Ten outta ten. Would date again.”